


A Soft Place to Land

by Neptunium134



Category: Formula E RPF
Genre: Big brother Stoffel, Brother Feels, Comfort, Don't let Nyck drink ever again please, Drunkenness, Friendship, Gen, Party, Poor Stoffel, Sharing a Bed, Sibling Love, Sibling Relationship, Vomiting, brother figure, but it's platonic sharing, platonic sharing a bed, there's only one bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:02:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25897141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neptunium134/pseuds/Neptunium134
Summary: Nyck gets drunk at the FE season finale party, and it's up to Stoffel to look after him
Relationships: Nyck de Vries & Stoffel Vandoorne
Comments: 9
Kudos: 24





	A Soft Place to Land

**Author's Note:**

> STOFFEL WON THE FINAL RACE OF THE SEASON AND I AM SO HAPPY AND I AM SO PLEASED NYCK GOT P2, THE MERCBROS DID SO WELL!
> 
> Basically this came about when I wanted to see some interaction between Nyck and Stoff after the podium, but we never saw any.
> 
> Also, fuck COVID. COVID doesn't exist in this story, so before you yell at me for that, I am using my author privilege and ignoring the fact the pandemic exists.
> 
> Also, this is my first attempt at writing a drunk character. I have never been drunk (I don't drink) and I have not been around anyone while they are drunk, so I'm sorry if Nyck seems too coherent in this.

“I am so proud of you!” Nyck slumped against Stoffel, causing the Belgian, who had been talking to Antonio, to jump and quickly wrap an arm around his teammate’s waist to stop him from falling over.

Stoffel shot Antonio a sympathetic grin, who gave him a knowing look and patted Stoff’s shoulder before heading over to where JEV was drunkenly chasing some balloons around near the stage, chuckling to himself.

Stoff threw Nyck’s left arm over his shoulder to steady the young Dutchman as he swayed on his feet.

“I think you’ve had enough alcohol for one night,” the Belgian chuckled, gently guiding Nyck to the exit.

“Nuu! We’re just gettin’ started-” Nyck waved his arms about, whacking Stoffel in the face, the heel of his hand thumping the Belgian’s nose.

Pain flared up in Stoffel’s face, but he gritted his teeth and bared it in favour of getting his teammate to bed.

“The par-tay lasts _allllllllllllllllll_ night!” Nyck continued, still waving his arms about.

“You don’t have to stay the whole time,” Stoffel tried to reason. “Some people have gone home. It’s almost two in the morning.”

Nyck shook his head so fast Stoff thought he might unscrew it from his neck. “ _Allllllllllllllllll_ night!” He slurred.

Stoffel frowned. How was he going to convince Nyck to get back to the hotel? The young Dutchman seemed pretty determined to pull an all-nighter at the end-of-season party.  
He tried to remember what he did last year, but the memories were fuzzy. He just remembered waking up in his hotel room about three hours before any of the other drivers, who all seemed to be nursing hangovers.

He really wasn’t a party person.

The Belgian sighed, he needed to get Nyck outside, but with his teammate currently screaming at Robin in Dutch at the top of his lungs, it would be easier said than done.

Luckily, Robin’s teammate, Sam, seemed pretty much done with the Dutchman shrieking nonsense halfway across the hall and managed to convince Robin to have a drink of water.

Stoffel seized his chance, guiding Nyck towards the doors. Nyck attempted to shake Stoffel off him, but the older Mercedes driver just tightened his grip on Nyck’s waist.

He finally managed to get Nyck outside, half-dragging the young Dutchie towards the cars before he realised he’d left his car keys in his jacket, which was in the pit tent. The Belgian groaned to himself and sat Nyck against the wall of the building they’d been in.

“Wait there, I need to get our stuff.” He told his teammate.

Nyck said nothing, before he suddenly jerked forward and spewed vomit all over Stoffel’s trainers.

The Belgian grimaced as he felt the puke sink through the thin material and into his socks as he gently leaned Nyck to the side as the young Dutchman puked into the grass. He kept a hand pressed against Nyck’s back to steady him as he retched.

He felt someone tap his shoulder and looked behind him to see Felipe holding their jackets out to him, Edoardo half-hanging off his arm.

“Thanks.” He smiled slightly at the Brazilian, who ruffled his hair.

“Got to make sure Nando’s son makes it home safely, _certo_?” He grinned, as Edoardo groaned behind him.

Stoffel rolled his eyes, but took the jackets from Felipe. “It’s not gonna be the same without you next year.” He told the Venturi driver.

“ _Não_ , but we have to see what the future holds.” Felipe gave him one more pat on the back before leading Edoardo towards his car to take him to the hotel.

Stoffel shook his head and turned back to face Nyck, who was looking at him wide-eyed.

“Are you really Nando’s son?” He asked in awe.

Stoffel cursed Felipe under his breath.  
“No, he just thinks I am.” The Belgian grumbled, remembering how the Spanish driver used to baby him.

Nyck didn't look convinced, but allowed Stoffel to help him to his feet and steady him to the Belgian’s car.

Stoff parked in the hotel car park and helped Nyck out, the younger driver giggling as he tripped over his own feet.

He managed to get Nyck to the elevator and push the button for their floor with the Dutchman leaning heavily against his side.

They stumbled along the hallway, Stoffel’s legs almost buckling under the extra weight of a 25-year-old Dutch racer, but somehow they managed to get to Stoff's room.

The Belgian swiped his keycard, and the door beeped as it unlocked. Stoffel opened the door and guided Nyck towards the bed.

The Dutchie collapsed onto the mattress, giggling and hiccuping. Stoffel toed off his soiled shoes and socks, throwing them into the wash pile for tomorrow. He rummaged through Nyck’s jacket pocket and took out his keycard.

He opened Nyck’s room and grabbed Nyck’s pyjamas, washkit and some clothes for tomorrow, since he knew there was no way Nyck would be leaving his room on his own accord and Stoff didn't feel that comfortable leaving his obviously drunk teammate to fend for himself that night, so a sleepover it was.

Stoffel opened the door to his room again, finding Nyck still face-down on the bed, giggling to himself. The Belgian sighed and shook Nyck’s shoulder.

The Dutchman looked up at him, and Stoffel pressed his pyjamas and washkit into his teammate’s hands, ushering him into the bathroom.

Stoffel ran a hand over his face and changed into his pyjamas, shoving his sweat-and-champagne-sticky clothes into his suitcase.  
Nyck emerged from the bathroom, pyjamas shirt on inside-out and the shorts on backwards, both with drips of toothpaste staining them. Nyck himself had a froth of green-ish coloured toothpaste around his mouth.

Stoffel frowned, but said nothing, instead throwing a packet of tissues at Nyck on his way to the bathroom.

When he came out, Nyck was back to lying face-down on the bed, feet on the pillows and head down the foot-end of the bed.

Stoffel rolled his eyes, placing the wastepaper bin next to Nyck and manoeuvred his drunk teammate so the Dutchman’s head was on the pillow.

As he pulled away, Nyck grabbed his wrist, his eyes suddenly clear of any alcoholic influence. “Did I do a good job?”

Stoffel’s jaw dropped. Why would Nyck not think he did a good job? He was pretty certain Nyck did far more in that race than Stoffel himself did.

“Of course you did! Why would you ask that?”

Nyck shrugged. “No-one really said anything, so I thought maybe I didn’t do enough.”

Stoffel almost slapped himself. Of course no-one said anything, they were all focused on him, with his race win and securing 2nd in the championship, splitting the two Techeetah drivers.

“You did a great job, you pressured Buemi the entire race, and the move you made on him for P2 was fantastic! It wasn’t an easy move, but you did it.”

“I messed up the Fanboost move though,” Nyck mumbled.

“Nyck, I crashed into a wall trying to overtake in Santiago last year.” Stoffel deadpanned.

Nyck quirked a smile, and Stoffel grinned.

The Belgian got up from his spot next to Nyck on the bed, and the Dutchie gave him a look.

“Where are you going?”

“To the sofa?” Stoffel raised an eyebrow.

“Why?”

“To sleep?”

“But it’s a kingsize bed, there’s room for both of us. It’s more comfortable than the sofa.”

Stoffel paused for a moment. Nyck was right, the bed was big enough for the two, and he’d slept on hotel sofas before when he’d had to take care of a drunk Nando or Jenson, and they were not comfortable.

He sighed and rounded the bed, clambering under the covers on the opposite side to Nyck.  
“As long as you don’t puke on me.”

Nyck giggled and buried himself under the covers. “You’re the best big brother.” He said, snuggling up to Stoffel.

And if Stoff woke up with an arm around Nyck and the Dutchman using his chest as a pillow?

Well, no-one would know.

**Author's Note:**

> Heh.
> 
> I just really wanted some brotherly content with these two. They give off so many sibling vibes.
> 
> Plus extra mentioned McFamily. Can't have a Stoff fic without McFamily.
> 
> The original idea for this fic was grumpy Nyck, cuz I felt like Nyck wasn't receiving the attention and congratulations he deserved for that amazing drive, but I think I prefer drunk Nyck.
> 
> Also, there's only one bed.
> 
> Translations:  
> certo = right  
> Não = No
> 
> Follow my Tumblr- Neptunium134- for more updates!


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